In recent years, Lebanon has repeatedly been designated one of America’s best small towns, or most livable small cities, by the people and organizations that designate such things. While we tend to think that such ratings are overrated, we do suspect that a fair proportion of the city’s 15,000 residents agree that it’s a pretty darn good place to live, work and to educate children, despite putatively high property taxes.
This is perhaps the context for the public backlash the City Council encountered earlier this month when it held a public hearing on proposed zoning changes that would promote further mixed-use development along the Route 120 corridor between the I-89 interchange at Exit 18 and Centerra Park.
We’re not sure how much of the outcry was precipitated by the specifics of the Route 120 zoning changes, which seemed to incorporate some good ideas. But to the extent that current city residents sense that rapid growth is already threatening the dynamic of sustainable liveability that makes Lebanon attractive, the prospect of more development is likely to be greeted with suspicion, whatever the particular measures proposed to guide it.
That’s why we think the council was wise to pause its consideration of the Route 120 zoning changes while it gets its bearings. Mayor Doug Whittlesey had the right idea when he said, “One of the questions I don’t think we’ve necessarily answered or addressed in a long time is what ultimately do we want the city to look like.” It’s a good question, and one that deserves a thoughtful answer.
As our colleague Clare Shanahan has reported, permits have been issued for the construction of another 1,200 housing units in the city, many of them in large apartment complexes. Much of the new housing that has already come on line in recent years also is in the form of big apartment blocks.
No doubt this meets an urgent need in a region with an acute shortage of housing, and Lebanon has certainly done more than its part in this regard. But it also raises the question of how these developments fit in with an existing cityscape of single-family homes and smaller multi-unit dwellings in compact neighborhoods.
Indeed, Jennifer Sargent, Dartmouth Health’s director of relocation and community resources, told the council that the city does not need more small apartments, but does need a more diverse housing mix. “After about two or three years, many of our employees … reach a decision point,” she said. “If they can find a home to purchase, they stay here in the Upper Valley. If they cannot, then they leave the region.”
The prospect of incorporating those workers and families into the long-term life of the city is attractive. It suggests continued stability, added vibrancy, more children in the schools and civic engagement by newcomers that can help keep Lebanon recognizably Lebanon.
Of course, zoning is a blunt instrument when wielded to achieve specific ends. Market forces can at best be nudged along in a desired direction by zoning codes and development incentives. And in some planning circles, there’s a notion that encouraging a little spontaneity in development can pay off in unexpected ways.
So it makes sense for the council to look at the big picture. Major questions for the council to grapple with include: Are there natural limits to growth imposed by public infrastructure, natural resources and current development patterns? Where can residential growth best be accommodated in accord with historic housing patterns? What are the partnership opportunities with large employers that could give life to whatever vision of the future the city pins its hopes on? What is the appropriate balance among the interests of business and current residents and the demands of futurity in articulating a vision for the evolving city? And how does the city’s future fit in with that of the Upper Valley?
Lebanon has got a pretty good thing going; the challenge is to keep it going.